Nahlia-of-the-Veil

(a.k.a. She Who Walks the Far Sky, Keeper of Quiet Power, The Cold Light That Watches, the Maiden in the Moon)

Balgrendians do not look too long at the moon.

They say that sometimes, if you stare too long, something looks back.

Nahlia-of-the-Veil, as Balgrendians refer to the Maiden, is an enigmatic and distant figure of moonlight, hidden knowledge, and dangerous truths. She is not warm, not kind—but she is present, high above the rot and ruin, untouched by the soil’s sorrows. She is revered in hushed tones, not for comfort or hope, but for the clarity she brings to those brave—or desperate—enough to seek it.

Nahlia is said to dwell not upon the moon, though she sometimes travels there, but behind it in the Shifting Hollow—a space of mirrored winds and backward stars. From there, she leans close to the world and pours magic into the cracks of dream, madness, and prophecy. Her form is rarely spoken of, but when it is, she is described as a veiled woman of impossible height, draped in a cloak of starlit smoke, with a crescent crown of silver bone and eyes that shine through the veil like cold fireflies.

Lore and Magic

It is whispered that all spells, rituals, and signs—no matter their origin—are merely reflections of her thought. Even those who do not worship her unintentionally borrow from her mind. But Nahlia does not teach. She reveals, and only to those who offer enough of themselves in return.

She is not beloved. She is respected, feared, and envied, even among witches and forest-seers. For while others grant gifts, Nahlia grants understanding—and understanding is the most dangerous thing of all.

Worship in Balgrendia

Nahlia's sacred places are natural: moonpools hidden deep in forest groves, stone rings so old no one recalls their builders, lone hilltops where shadows lie too still.
Her followers maintain a loose network of moon-ways—hidden paths between sacred sites, maintained in secrecy by those who know the signs. A small number of permanent sanctums exist, always kept hidden by illusion, distance, or obscurity.

On the Nights of No Light (new moons)

the Veilbound gather to burn silvered herbs, chant in tongues not spoken in daylight, and stare at the blank sky in silence. These rites are meant not to call Nahlia down—but to lift their minds toward her.

On High Moons,

they walk ancient, narrow paths through graveyards and frozen marshes, seeking the Reflected Voice—a phenomenon where one may hear a question whispered back, not in their own voice, but in hers.

Symbols and Signs

Nahlia's sign is a closed eye beneath a crescent, often carved into bark or bone and hidden from plain view. Some etch it into their skin, though this is said to draw her attention more quickly—and not always favorably.

Her sacred animal is the white moth, and her followers often wear its wings in charms or pressed into the pages of their grimoires.

Her number is two: the hidden twin, the secret half, the other side of a truth.

The Veilbound

Nahlia's priesthood is known as the Veilbound. They remain few, solitary, and often itinerant—but they do train initiates in private rites and silent observances passed down through generations. Their structure is conspiratorial, not hierarchical—knowledge flows in whispers, not commands.
Most Veilbound are women. Many are born under rare lunar events, or marked by strange dreams and unnatural silences in childhood. They never gather in numbers greater than three, save on the Nights of No Light, when regional cells converge in sacred clearings to commune through silence and fire.
Each Veilbound is self-governing, but they answer, ultimately, to The Pale Seeress—a figure rarely seen, said to walk the world only when the moon has vanished entirely.

They are respected in rural Balgrendian communities—but warily. You offer them hospitality of hearth and home, or at the very least an offering of milk. You never ask for favors. And you never, ever, ask what they see when the moon disappears.

Offerings to Nahlia-of-the-Veil

A braid of your own hair, tied with moonlit thread and buried beneath a willow.

A bowl of still water, left uncovered on the night of the new moon, to collect dreams.

A truth you’ve never spoken aloud, whispered into the hollow of a tree before dawn.

All offerings must be made alone, and without hope of answer.

Whispers in Balgrendia

“She’s watching. Always watching. But not here.” “The moon is not a light. It is a veil. And something waits behind it.” “She spoke to my sister. My sister hasn’t slept since.”

Divine Classification

Deity

Church/Cult

The Old Faith